Act I – Scarred
by Krysnel Nicavis
Summary: The secret of why Greg doesn't have any scars on his back… and what are Nick and Warrick hiding as well? So it begins... Part1 in the AngelDemon Saga
1. Scene I

**Title:** Act I – Scarred  
**Fandom:** CSI  
**Characters:** Nightshift CSI's  
**Prompt:** #001 – Beginnings  
**Word Count:** 2,099 (complete fic)  
**Rating:** K+ (Minor action violence without serious injury.)  
**Summary:** The secret of why Greg doesn't have any scars on his back… and what are Nick and Warrick hiding as well?  
**Author's Notes:** Part I of the AngelDemon Saga; Spoilers: "Stalker", "Play With Fire", "4x4", "Grave Danger", "Fannysmackin'"; Assume none of the specified characters (you'll know which ones when you read) have any scars to speak of.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing…

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_**Act I**_

**Scene I**

Sara had always wondered why it was that Greg didn't have any scars on his back. During the decontamination shower five years ago she'd peeked and the absence of any evidence of the physical trauma he'd endured two years before had confused her. They'd all heard the report of his condition after he'd been admitted into the hospital following the lab explosion. He'd incurred numerous severe burns to his back – some of the bigger ones being third degree. The flesh of his back should have been permanently scarred. While many smaller scars would most likely fade with time, the larger ones should have been there the rest of his life. Yet a mere two years later his back was bare of all blemishes, untouched by the superheated element.

Catherine was the first to note that the injuries Greg sustained from being nearly beaten to death left no physical marks on the young CSI's body. The scars on his visible skin had healed one hundred percent. While it was known to happen, an individual usually retained a slight trace of evidence that they'd been in a situation as traumatic as a beating. But to her knowledge, the scars had completely faded as though they'd never been there in the first place.

Grissom had observed the three young male CSI's on Nightshift since they'd all began working at the lab – even when Greg had been a Lab Tech. He'd taken careful note of every injury sustained both on the job and off by the three men, be it a paper cut or a flame burn. Upon examining the evidence in front of him he found a correlation between all of them: the injuries that normally would have resulted in permanent visible evidence of the injury did not, in _any_ of them.

Warrick knew when Greg had been thrown through the glass window in the lab and received severe flame burns to his back that the younger man would not have a scratch to show for it in the end. Just as he knew the injuries sustained by the beating would not mar the young man's skin either. More importantly, he knew why.

Greg had expected the scars to fade. He also knew that Warrick was aware of this fact, and why he knew. He knew of scars that Warrick himself should have had from injuries incurred long ago. He remembers knowing the older man when he was a child and the older man teaching him a few tricks.

Nick was unaware of the strangeness of his two best friends, more concerned with avoiding questions about his own. So far, no one took note of the abnormally fast time it took for him to recover from the physical assault received during the stalker incident the year before the lab explosion. Also no one had noticed that none of the bug bites he'd received in the Plexiglas coffin had left any mark of any form. No one seemed to take notice of how he'd been a bit depressed when he'd been placed on Swing shift – though he had similarly noticed the slight depression in Warrick as well. In addition, no one noticed that his depression lifted once he was transferred back to Nightshift, under the soothing careful watch of the moon.

At least he thought no one did.

"All the heirs and temple maids are back with the Devil King, Sire, and the time draws near when clouds will part and the fronts will move." the seemingly young man reported.

"That is good to hear," the God King replied with an evil grin on his face. "That is very good." He waved his hand, dismissing the young man. He stood and looked out the window, his view of the vast desert in front of him. "Everything is going according to plan. Now that all the pieces are in place, it is time to begin the game." The God King cackled madly.

- 30 -

End Scene I

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_chapter updated: __January 09, 2008_


	2. Scene II

**Disclaimer:** same as chapter one.

**A****/N:** I wasn't planning on having Act I be more than one chapter long, but then I got the idea for this chapter.

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Act I 

**Scene ****II**

"Are you sure you understood their intentions right?" Gil Grissom asked David Hodges, the Trace Tech, as the two sat in his office before the start of shift. "The Angel Clan and Demon Clan have made it a point not to interact with each other, and have not done so for centuries."

"Yes, sir," the younger man nodded to his supervisor. "I assure you their intentions were made very clear. The God King has made an agreement with a high ranking individual from the Demon Clan. In exchange for information on the Devil King, he will tell the Demon Clan member the whereabouts of a certain Angel that is of interest to the Demon in question."

"I understand the request for information on the Devil King, why would a member of the Demon Clan be interested in an Angel?"

"Maybe he's trying to convert him?" Hodges asked, tilting his head to one side. "But my sources tell me that is not the case," Hodges continued. "I haven't been able to gather much Intel, but the point of the matter is that this Angel may not even be an Angel at all." Grissom frowned.

"You can't stop an Angel from being an Angel any more than you can stop a Demon from being a Demon."

"Not unless that Angel is also Demon." Grissom's eyes went blank at the statement.

"There has not been one of those in four thousand years," the Devil King mused before dismissing the young Demon. It would be interesting for a Demon to get a hold of this AngelDemon, and maybe even helpful for the cause. However, if the wrong person had the young AngelDemon in their grasp… It was in this position the rest of the Nightshift found him. He surveyed his CSI's and made a decision: one of _his_ Demons would have to be the one to claim the stray AngelDemon if the war was ever to come to an end.

- 30 -

End Scene II

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chapter updated: __January 03, 2008_


	3. Scene III

**Disclaimer:** same as chapter one.

**A****/N:** I keep saying this part is finished, but then I get an idea.

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Act I 

**Scene ****III**

_**Approximately **__**250,000 BCE **_(1)

There existed, before the time of modern man, a race of intelligent beings. With their evolutionary advantage they were gifted with many abilities – some of the most notable being immortality and regeneration. Due to their superiority over other humanoids, many of these being became vain and power hungry. Their vanity was severely punished.

In approximately 225,000 BCE the vain and power hungry of this race fell under a curse losing much of their immortality and forced to live a life spanning no longer than five centuries. Fuelled by jealousy, the mortal of the two races banded together and began to attack the immortals beginning a long and brutal war between the two groups. Over the time span of three millennia the two groups came to bitterly hate one another and bonding between the two races was forbidden. The hatred ran so deep that any child formed from a union between individuals from opposite sides were slaughtered.

When humanoids that would form the race of modern men emerged, the two superior races were forced into hiding. Their uniqueness from normal humanoids sparked many stories of the separation of the once mighty race were passed down through the generations of humans until they became little more than myths. The immortal of the two races became referred to as "Angels" for the fact that they never died and were prone to coming out of their hiding places and aiding the humans. They were said to be led by a group of nobles known as "Gods". The mortal race on the other hand, due to the vanity that cursed them were referred to a "Demons" ruled over by a "Devil" court.

Thousands of years passed and the two races began to loose track of one another. It seemed that the war had ended. Chance unions between the two races were formed and their children were allowed to grow into adulthood. But this sense of peace was unstable and once it was discovered that the hybrid children of Angels and Demons possessed a certain power within them, a power to reunite the two races once again and give the Demons back what was taken, the eye of the storm passed and under the shadowed cloak of night the war began to rage on once more.

The only way an AngelDemon's power could be utilized is if they were "Claimed" by either an Angel or a Demon. The way a claim worked was that the one who was staking the Claim drank the AngelDemon's blood and vice-versa – this phenomenon paired with the starlight war brought about the emergence of some strange myths of nocturnal creatures that drank mortals dry. However, a forced Claim gave full control of the AngelDemon's power to the individual staking the Claim. As a result the AngelDemons were once again slaughtered and unions between the two races became fiercely forbidden once more. To go against this was seen as heresy and the punishment was immediate death for all those involved.

The two races fell, once more, lost each other and began living their lives within mortal society. They lived as humans and bided their time, fighting minor skirmishes, and waiting for the time when the war would finally end…

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_**May 5, 1875**_

"My Daughter," a man who looked to be in his late forties addressed a young blonde woman, who looked about twenty-seven at the most, lying on a four-poster bed. "My Daughter, we must take care with this young one," he said, referring to the tiny bundle in the young woman's arms.

"I know Father," the woman said as she smiled down at the tiny baby boy she held. He was barely two hours old and from the moment she'd seen him she loved him with all he heart. "No one must ever know the truth of my son's heritage." The spoke for a while longer and her father nodded and left. Some minutes after his departure there was a soft knock at the door. "Come in," the woman called and a tall black man with piercing green eyes entered.

"You called for me Sophia?" he asked the blonde woman.

"Yes," she said and gazed down at her infant son for a moment before turning back to the man. "Warrick, you are my dearest friend," she began. "We've helped each other out of a few sticky situations."

"More than a few, actually," the man known as Warrick grinned.

"My point exactly," Sophia grinned as well. "But I am afraid I must ask something of you, something of great importance and great danger."

"Fia, we've been dear friends for countless centuries, you know I would do anything you asked of me. You know I look to you as my own sister," Warrick said, taking a seat on the bed beside her.

"I know, and I feel the same about you. That is why you are the only one I can trust." She gazed down her son. "No one must know." Warrick heard the desperation in his friend's voice and listened intently. "His father," she began, not looking up. "He was not of our kind."

"Not of our kind?" Warrick repeated. "Was he mortal?" She shook her head. Warrick knew that the man who fathered Sophia's child had taken her by force but she never told a soul anything about him. He knew it was because she feared something more than she feared the man. "He was Demon," he said simply.

"Yes, he was Demon," she said, looking into his green eyes with tears welling up in hers. "I love my son, Rick. When he was only minutes old I knew I loved him so fiercely that I would kill anyone who tried to harm him. I will not lose him. That is why _no one_ must know the truth." Warrick seen the determination in her tear-filled eyes and nodded.

"Of course, my friend," he said. "I understand. I swear to you I will do everything in my power to ensure your son's heritage remains secret and that he remains safe." Sophia smiled.

"Thank you."

"So, does this little one have a name?" Warrick asked as he took a closer look at the small boy. Sophia looked at her son for a moment, tracing her finger down his tiny nose.

"Gregory," she said smiling. She leaned forward and gently placed the baby in Warrick's secure arms.

"Gregory," he repeated, taking in the child's dark tufts of hair. Baby Greg opened his eyes, his wide brown eyes staring into Warrick's green ones. From that moment Warrick knew he would do anything to help his friend keep this small boy safe.

- 30 -

End Scene III

_Continued in Act II -- The Clan Wars_

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Footnotes:**

(1) Homo Sapiens first detected approximately 200,000 years ago. (From article "Human" on Wikipedia)

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chapter updated: __January 09, 2008_


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